A Dandelion in the Sun
by ExquisitelyUgly
Summary: Some of Katniss and Peeta's moments together after Mockingjay that lead to discovery, understanding and healing for both of them. Multi-chapter, romance/angst, rated: T some sexual situations
1. Chapter 1

**This is my first attempt at a fic for The Hunger Games. So please be gentle! :o) **

**This fic is certain moments in time for Peeta and Katniss set after Mockingjay. I liked the idea of exploring a bit further into their life after the rebellion.**

**Warnings: This fic IS T-rated, but there are a couple sexual situations. They aren't overly-descriptive - in keeping with the rating - but I just wanted to put that out there if you happen to be a younger reader. It's relatively minor, but it is there.**

**This will be a multi-chapter… I'm not positive how many chapters, but I'd wager around 4, maybe. I'm hoping to update once a week, maybe even sooner if it works out. So there you have it… hope you enjoy and as always… reviews are wonderful!**

* * *

_No creature is fully itself till it is, like the dandelion, opened in the bloom of pure relationship to the sun, the entire living cosmos. – D. H. Lawrence_

* * *

_I stared at the ashes of my little sister, horrified beyond any sense of normality as the scream built in intensity. It lodged in my throat, and I was unable to let it loose. I ran toward the ashes, wanting to hold on to any vestige left of Prim. _

_The muttations from my first Hunger Games advanced on me, not allowing me to pass to get to her. I desperately needed to get to her._

_I grabbed an arrow and set it arcing straight into the eye of the mutt closest to me and when it fell with a horrid growl it was Rue. "No!" I choked, letting loose more arrows in anger and grief at the other mutts, but they all turned into someone I had come to care for._

_Rue. Cinna. Finnick. Darius. Madge._

_Sobbing at the sight of my dead friends' I still tried to run to Prim, but her ashes fluttered in the breeze and blew away before I could reach them. _

_The scream that was lodged in my throat broke free and the piercing shrieks rent the air._

My body jackknifed upward, my throat burning as the screams continued clawing their way out. The door of my bedroom flew open as I struggled frantically with the sheets twisted around my body.

"Katniss," a soft voice said. "Sssh, I'm here. You're okay."

I fought against the arms, lashing out in fear as thoughts of mutts and President Snow tried to swamp my mind. Finally, the tone and familiarity of the voice penetrated the fog of fear that had settled over me. I would know that voice anywhere, and I began to relax.

The tears rolled down my cheeks in an unending stream as Peeta cautiously wrapped his arms around me. I sank into his sturdy warmth as I cried over the loss of the many lives of people I loved; especially Prim. Sweet, loving Prim.

"I'm never going to be okay," I managed to say through my tears. "I keep dreaming of her, of losing her, and it hurts Peeta. It hurts so much I can hardly stand it."

He held me tightly, stroking the damp strands of hair clinging to my forehead back, until I was too worn out to do anything but lie limply against him.

"How did you even know?" I mumbled. My eyelids felt heavy as exhaustion hit me.

"I heard you, Katniss. I wasn't sleeping," he whispered. "I'll replace the window by your door tomorrow."

I smiled a little at his determination to get to me as we sank down onto my bed. "Will you stay? It might help you get some sleep," I whispered. I knew he saw through that – I wanted him to stay for selfish reasons – but I just wasn't good at saying what I really wanted to say.

"Of course," he whispered back without even a blink of his eye, and I felt the brush of his lips against my forehead.

He tightened his arms around me, and I rested my head in the crook of his neck and shoulder. I felt better with the comfort of his steady warmth next to me again, the thump of his heart in my ear, and felt myself drifting into a sleep where nightmares didn't quite reach me.

This was how Peeta and I began sleeping together again.

* * *

Our lives continued to move on and we tried to deal with the grief together. Peeta began baking again, though most of the time he spent doing so was in one of our houses, while a new bakery was being built. He planned to take over his father's duties as the town's baker and was waiting for the project to be completed.

In the meantime, I was happy with the smell and supply of his cheese buns. He also spent a lot of time painting; he had supplies in his home and some at mine.

We had decided after some time that we should make another book to remember all of our friends by the one day, and we had started work on it immediately. We assembled the pages and sifted through photographs we had managed to procure recently. I was flipping through pages one morning in Peeta's kitchen - after a restless night for the both of us - as Peeta sketched a picture of Annie and Finnick with their arms wound around each other.

One more page flip, and I was frozen. Prim stared back at me.

Peeta had drawn her and the likeness was astounding. She had her arm around Lady, the goat's nose touching her cheek, and her smile was bright as the sun. Her beautiful, innocent smile shone and suddenly I was shoving the chair back in my haste to get up. My stomach rolled in grief and sickness.

"Katniss?" I heard Peeta call out loudly behind me as I rocketed out of his house and back toward my own.

The blood rushed through my head, and I felt faint. In my own house, I crashed into a side table, sending it to the floor. Up the steps, into my bedroom, I spun around wildly, trying to escape the pain nipping at my heels.

The memories were going to eat me alive.

The closet door was nearly ripped off its hinges as I flung it open. A vague memory of huddling in one in the Capitol had me burrowing into a nest of clothing on the floor. The shaking started and the gasps coming from my throat burned and ached as silent tears fell from my eyes.

The dark and silence cocooned me, and I huddled deeper into the piles of clothing, trying to fight the urge to vomit.

I desperately wished I had some morphling, but all I had were the sleeping pills and the pain pills for my burns. It didn't take long for Peeta to find me, and I balked at coming out, so he came in with me. His arms wrapped around me, and after a moment's hesitation, I rested my forehead against his chest.

He just held on to me as I brought myself back slowly. "Katniss, we don't have to…" he started to say, but I interrupted.

"I want to," I said my voice hoarse. "It was just… that picture…"

We stayed huddled in the piles of clothing as my breathing returned to normal. We would go back and work on the book; it was too important not to.

"I have to remember," I whispered.

* * *

Peeta and I had started growing even closer together as time passed. Haymitch was the one to point out the difference. He was at the house, giving us his memories of friends who had been in the arena in previous games, and reeking of white liquor.

"You know you two are the talk of the town," he slurred.

I glanced over at him. "What do you mean?" I asked.

He chuckled and pointed at us. "Sleepovers, sweetheart, sleepovers. So the girl on fire and the baker's son are back together?"

I glared at him. "No," I snapped. "And it's not as if it were any of your business anyway."

He stumbled as he got up. He took another swig of the white liquor he carted around with him.

"Whatever the case may be, you two are becoming interesting again." He sniggered once more and then banged into various pieces of furniture on his way out the door.

Peeta's eyes were downcast when I glanced up. He hadn't said a word, and I felt the guilt start to eat away at me. We had never talked about our relationship, or pretend relationship, but I could see now his feelings were still very much the same as they had been previously.

"Peeta…" I started to say, uncertainty and annoyance warring within me at not knowing how to make this right, but he stood and cut me off.

"I'm fine, Katniss," he said and turned to leave the kitchen.

I sat with my head bowed, unable and maybe a little unwilling to go after him, and I heard my front door open and close. My hands cradled my head as I told myself the last thing I needed right now was to become involved with Peeta. We were both so lost and after everything that had happened I felt guilty at trying to find some happiness for myself.

It was nearing sunset the next day when I finally managed to grudgingly drag myself over to Peeta's house. My excuse was to take him the leftover stew that Greasy Sae had prepared for me for dinner since he didn't eat with me earlier. It was a flimsy excuse, but I tried not to examine the real reasons too closely.

I knocked lightly on the door, but I heard nothing.

Frowning, I tried to peer in the window, but it was when I was turning around and trying to swallow my disappointment, that I heard a crash and a muffled cry.

"Peeta!" I called out loudly.

The door was unlocked, so I shoved it open and ran inside in my haste to find out what happened. My heart banged in fear at what I saw as I skidded around the corner.

He was in the kitchen, his hands gripping the table, a bloodied knife lying next to him. My mind flashed to the arena, but I shook my head to clear the cobwebs. He had only been baking; it was an accident. His head was bent, and I knew he was having one of his moments that came after the hijacking.

Without another thought about it, I wrapped my arms around him from behind. My hands gripped his arms, my body pressed firmly against him, and I rested my forehead against his shoulder blades.

His breathing eased moments later, and I felt his hands reach for mine. Our fingers entwined, we stayed like that, and I rested my cheek against his strong back. I could hear his soft inhale and exhale of breath and it was comforting.

He finally turned so we were facing each other. I cleaned his hand under the faucet and pulled out his first-aid kit and efficiently wrapped his hand in a bandage. His face had lost the horrible tightness as the memories of his capture and torture overtook him, but he still looked a little troubled. I urged him to take one of his pills for the headaches he sometimes got afterward.

I wondered at my need to make sure he was okay. I didn't like seeing him like this; it reminded me too much of how much he suffered at the hands of President Snow.

"Katniss," he finally said quietly. "There was never a baby. Real or not real?"

"Real," I whispered. I had never realized that would be something he was unsure about and it broke my heart to see the flash of loss on his face.

"We were only in bed together to sleep," he said. "Real or not real?"

"Real."

I rested my cheek on the spot on his chest where I had always rested my head. The thump of his heart under my ear was reassuring.

"I'm sorry about earlier," I mumbled. "It's just…"

He interrupted. "It's okay, Katniss… you don't have to explain…"

I laid my finger on his lips; they were full and smooth to the touch. Peeta's life was interwoven with mine to the point that I wasn't sure where I began and he ended. To be happy meant to let go of some of the grief that was so ever present in my life and try to let someone else in.

I wanted to do that, but up until now it had felt as if I were betraying the memories of those I had loved because they had lost their lives and I hadn't. I was beginning to understand that they would have wanted me to live, to be happy, and to honor their loss that had afforded me the opportunity for a peaceful life. Did I deserve Peeta? The boy who stood for all that was good in the world could be my dandelion in the sun if I just let my guard down.

When I heard the crash and saw the blood, I had felt something snap inside me. It was instantaneous, and I realized then and there that I didn't want to lose Peeta because of my insecurities and fears.

Peeta's beautiful blue eyes were looking at me quizzically, so I said, "We were too consumed with other things to really think about being together, and I was scared. But maybe we should try."

I ended up sounding awkward and couldn't quite meet his eyes at first.

When I finally looked up, I saw the light of happiness in his eyes and that was enough for me to know this was the right decision. After that conversation, not only did his arms comfort me at night, but so did his lips.


	2. Moments of Love

"To love someone deeply gives you strength. Being loved by someone deeply gives you courage." - Lao Tzu

* * *

The night I felt the ache of hunger again was when Peeta gently woke me from a nightmare of lost children in the Capitol. The images were horrific, and I had trouble releasing myself from it even with Peeta's arms holding me against him tightly. He tilted my chin up, and I felt his warm lips press against mine. The warmth of his mouth was comforting.

My lips moved against his without thought – we had shared so many since I gave him the okay to try a real relationship - and I wrapped my arms around him. The touch of his tongue against mine ignited a curious, melting feeling in my stomach. My arms held him tighter, closer, and I felt his body shift against mine.

"Katniss…" he whispered against my mouth. His breath feathered warm and sweet against me.

I knew what he was feeling. I was feeling it, too, and I slowly slid my hand up under his t-shirt. I didn't want to talk; I just needed to go with what I was feeling. My words weren't like his – easy to come by and just right - and I didn't want to say something wrong. His breath was a little shorter now as he pulled back slightly. My hand dared to reach for the waistband of his shorts, and I felt the small exhalation of breath again and smiled.

"Are you sure?" he whispered thickly.

There was no denying what I felt, what he felt, and I wanted to be with him in all the ways a girl could be with a boy. He had been so good to me, so gentle and patient and sweet, and even when I hadn't been so nice he still stuck by me. He loved me… and I was beginning to realize that I was in love with him.

I was in love with Peeta Mellark. It still felt strange, but good, to feel that way.

My hands began tugging his shorts down as I said simply, "Yes."

I had grown up knowing the mechanics of sex and that it was a way of life, but never thought much about it. It was a way to create a life and a way to express your love for someone, but I never thought about the feelings in relation to it.

I had an inkling of knowledge with the hunger I had felt while kissing Peeta before, but the actual feel of it took me by surprise. Peeta's body pressed into mine and his kisses were soft as he explored my bare skin with shaky hands. The feeling was really nice, and I liked the way my body went from cool and shaky to really warm and pliant under his touch.

His hair tickled my skin, and I wound my fingers into it as I felt the brush of his fingers over my bare breasts. Shivers slid their way over my skin, tickling over my nerve endings, and I wrapped my arms around Peeta. I wanted to feel him even closer.

I stroked the tips of my fingers, followed by my lips, over his burn scars. I felt the moment of tensed hesitation in him, but when I continued and proved nothing on his body could disgust me, he relaxed.

It wasn't easy to allow someone to see the physical scars, but we had seen each other's emotional scars and had been through so much together. Peeta was one of the few people I trusted implicitly. I allowed him to do the same and closed my eyes as his lips smoothed over them.

Our hands explored, our mouths came together in heated pants, and I found my legs winding around him as I felt him move and press against me. The heat and hunger began building higher as the lengths of our bodies were pressed against each other.

His soft skin, mixed with some of the roughness in certain areas, and the soft golden hair on his body was enough to have my pulse racing. His soft moan of pleasure when I touched him was intoxicating and when we joined together it was just right.

"I love you, Katniss," he gasped as our bodies began to move in tandem.

"I love you, too," I said, and I felt his smile against my neck, and then I forgot everything.

When morning had dawned, I woke, and there had been no nightmares. My body was still tangled with Peeta's, and I could see he was still asleep. He was usually awake first, so I took advantage of the opportunity and propped my head on my hand to gaze down at his face.

His tangled blonde hair was soft to the touch as I smoothed it back carefully. The sunlight trickling in the open windows lit his golden eyelashes and I found myself transfixed by them yet again.

I stroked a finger down the bridge of his nose, gently sliding it across his cheek and jaw. To my surprise, I felt slight stubble and investigated further. There was definitely some there; fascinated, I slid my fingers along the smooth roughness of it. My mind wandered to the night before as I explored, and I was still amazed at the intensity of our love-making and how pleasurable it had been.

Somewhere amidst my daydreaming, Peeta had woken and was watching me.

"You have stubble," I told him with some surprise and uncertainty.

I didn't like being caught unawares with my feelings, but he seemed to be feeling the same tenderness as I did, judging by his look, and he smiled at me.

I got distracted by the curve of his mouth when he smiled and found my thumb smoothing over his lower lip which made him chuckle softly. His warm breath spread over my fingers.

"Did it just start growing back? And how?" I questioned.

His hand rested on my bare hip and he said, "It did. It was some kind of smelly cream they smeared on our faces to stop the growth, but apparently it only works for so long. I'll shave it if you…"

"Not yet," I interrupted. I liked it, but felt a little strange saying so. The newness to our relationship would take a little time to adjust to.

He took my hand and lightly tugged on me until I was straddling him. I gazed down at him with something akin to tenderness flaring inside me, and he sat up partially to kiss me. I explored his body further with hands and lips and heard him give a soft sound when I pressed a kiss to the stump of his leg. His eyes locked with mine.

"You love me. Real or not real?"

He deserved to hear it again and as many times as I could say it. "Real," I whispered.

* * *

A year passed with comfortable ease, and I passed my days with Peeta and occasionally Haymitch; when he was at least partially sober. Peeta taught me to bake a few things, and after a few bad attempts, I got better at it. One morning Greasy Sae had made a breakfast of pancakes, crispy bacon, and an array of fruit and mugs of hot chocolate one morning for me and Peeta.

Once we finished breakfast and helped to clean up – and after I gave Buttercup some bacon – I had the idea of taking Peeta into the woods with me to hunt. We hadn't been in the woods together since the Hunger Games, but I thought we could turn it into a peaceful activity to overcome all the death we had encountered in other forests.

He seemed hesitant when had I brought it up, but agreed to go with me if he could show me how to bake a cake later. I had a sneaking suspicion he wanted me to know how because we had inadvertently found out Haymitch's birthday was coming up. It was a warm spring day, so I decided to forego my father's coat and just pulled on my boots and picked up my bow.

"Sorry, I'm being loud," he said quietly after we had walked for a little while.

"I'm used to it," I said giving him a teasing smirk. Something I had found annoying and distracting had now become endearing. "We're going to be hunting from one spot, though, so it won't matter."

We reached one of my favorite hunting spots. There was a lot of heavy brush, and it was a comfortable enough spot to perch and wait for prey. He had seen me load my bow before and had even practiced a little bit in training, but I showed him some of the tricks I knew. It didn't take long for a rabbit to appear, and I instructed him quietly. He released the arrow and it grazed the rabbit. It didn't kill it, though, and it escaped.

It was a good shot for a beginner, and after a few tries, he managed to kill one. We put the rabbit into my bag. By then both of us were hungry as we had spent a couple hours sitting in the brush. I unpacked some of Peeta's cheese buns – my favorite – and cut up an apple for us to eat.

I leaned back against the trunk of a tree, nibbling on a bun, and I watched Peeta eat. He seemed comfortable enough being in the woods. I figured I would show him where I swam with my father one of these days, and we could try fishing some time.

Suddenly, his body spasmed slightly, and I looked over at him in alarm. His eyes were squeezed shut and his fists were clenching. I knelt next to him, rubbing my hand over his hard fists, and then lifted my hand to stroke his face.

"Its okay, Peeta. We're both okay," I said quietly.

His facial muscles relaxed after a moment, and I lay my head in his lap, letting him feel me against him. It was what soothed him the most. His fingers began playing with my hair, and I turned so I was looking up at him. He looked tired and a little worn, but I could see the little light of happiness beginning to warm his blue eyes again.

The sun was lit behind his head and his blonde hair glowed. "Katniss?"

"Hmm?" I murmured lazily as my eyes traced over his features kissed by the sun. I was beginning to feel those stirrings again and wondered if I could have him right here.

He bit his lip. "We have been together for a little while now…"

He had trailed off, and I gazed up at him in confusion, waiting for him to continue. "Yes?" I prompted.

He looked down at me again. "So… um, you know I love you, and you love me."

When I nodded, he continued. "Katniss Everdeen, will you really marry me this time?"

It was so different than how he had proposed before – no matter if it was a fake proposal – I almost felt like it was just another show. But it wasn't. He was holding a small box and looking really nervous.

"Really?" It was the only thing I could think of to say.

He flipped the lid open and showed me a very simple band with triangular markings. "I mentioned it to your mother," he said a little shyly. "She said your father gave her this ring when he proposed to her. He had saved up to buy it for her."

My eyes widened as recognition swept over me. I reached out and touched the band in awe; something my father had picked out. It was truly the way to my heart. I swallowed nervously. Could I really get married and be a good wife to Peeta? It was a scary, exhilarating thought.

"I do love you, I'm just not sure I'd be a very good wife," I said jumping up and pacing nervously.

He watched me for a moment. "I think you would make a fantastic wife," he said calmly.

"Why? I know I'm good at hunting, killing, and having plenty of nightmares. Does that translate into being a good wife?" My voice had risen higher than normal as I spoke.

Peeta stood, laying his hands on my shoulders. "You also care a great deal or it wouldn't bother you so much. You have a tough exterior, but it hides someone who knows how to love. Just think of Prim, Katniss. It was obvious how much you loved her; your mother, too."

Peeta's words sank in, and I mulled over them. I _had _loved Prim; I still did even though she was gone. I would have done anything for her. The pain came, but the panic ebbed a little, and I glanced up at him.

She would have loved a wedding.

I looked into Peeta's blue eyes, and I relaxed. I was in love with him. If he was willing to take me as I was, then I was willing to marry the man I had fallen in love with. I deserved a little bit of happiness after all the devastation, right? If the past year was any indication, I had learned to make Peeta – and ultimately myself – happy by being together.

"Yes," I whispered. His lips met mine immediately.

I was going to get married.

* * *

**AN: Since I couldn't respond personally, I wanted to thank Megan, Tori, and alycat for their reviews! Hope everyone enjoys chapter 2. :o)**


	3. Moments of New Beginnings

_Don't marry the person you think you can live with; marry only the individual you think you can't live without. ~James C. Dobson_

* * *

I paced around the spare bedroom waiting for my mother to bring the wedding dress in. We had discovered from my old prep team that Cinna had created a dress for me – one I had never known about – for my wedding day. It would have seemed presumptuous, but he had known me pretty well. I had felt the flicker of pain that came with the happiness over wearing something he had made for me.

She came in carrying a garment bag over her arm. I paused, swallowed hard, and my mother smiled gently. "There was a note with it."

I stared down at the folded square of paper.

I carefully unzipped the garment bag, keeping my eyes closed until it was fully exposed. When I opened them, I couldn't help the little gasp. It was a simple white strapless gown, but the dress had criss-crossing lines of green in the shape of a willow tree. Upon closer inspection, they were reflective little jewels and flashed a beautiful forest-green in the light. There was a small button sewn into the inside of the dress and when I pushed it the dress emitted a soft green glow.

It was stunning. Cinna knew how much I loved being in my forest at home and created a wedding dress that showed that. I opened the letter and read:

_Katniss,_

_Maybe it's a bit presumptuous of me, but I had this idea for a wedding dress that would suit you and I had to create it. I don't know what choices you will make in the future, but my bet is still with the girl on fire; to live and to live the best way you know how. I hope this comes in handy for you one day. Remember… chin up. _

_Your friend,_

_Cinna_

I stared down at the letter, a lump in my throat, thinking of my Capitol friend who supported me through everything. Cinna was remarkably talented, and I was excited to wear his creation today in memory of him.

My mother helped me into the dress, and then she stood behind me and did my hair the way she had done for the Reaping.

"You look beautiful," she said quietly.

I smiled. My mother and I had a rough relationship in the beginning, but it had eased and softened recently, especially after the loss we had suffered. She lived in another district, but it had helped us grow closer in some ways.

"Thank you," I said accepting her hug.

When she left, my mind wandered, and I couldn't stop thinking of Prim. I felt the misery welling up, and I tried to dispel it. She should have been here with me. When Haymitch came in, he took one look at my face and said, "I'll get Peeta."

I didn't want Peeta to see me like this on our wedding day, but he was the only one who could calm me down. When he came in, I went right into his arms. His hands rubbed my back, his lips pressed against my temple, as I tried to rein in the grief.

"She should be here," I said angrily as tears slid down my cheeks. "She should be here for my wedding day. I miss her so much, Peeta."

He kissed me and brushed my tears away. "She should be," he agreed.

He let me cry against his shoulder, and I glanced up at him after a few moments. I could see the loss and sadness on his face and felt guilty.

"You miss your family, too, don't you? I'm sorry, Peeta."

He gave me a small smile. "I do. I miss my father especially. I wish he was here."

We hugged each other, awash in our shared grief, until Peeta pulled back. "Let's get married, Katniss," he said firmly. "Let's get married and have a good time for them."

I smiled, agreeing with him, and knew that Prim would have wanted that. So would the other friends we had lost. I carefully washed my face and put a little gold eyeliner on in honor of Cinna. My old prep team would have been proud especially since I escaped stabbing myself in the eye with the pencil.

Peeta held out a thin, green ribbon. "Your mother gave me this. She said you might want to wear it."

I felt that pang again as I stared down at one of Prim's hair ribbons. I held out my wrist and Peeta carefully tied it on. I pressed my wrist over my heart, closed my eyes, and then we walked downstairs.

"I'm scared," I whispered to him.

His bright blue eyes met mine. "So am I," he confessed.

It was enough for me to know that this was meant to be. We were both scared, but we wanted to be scared together.

"You look beautiful," he murmured in my ear as we went into the newly built Justice Building to sign the papers. It didn't take long to cover that aspect of it, and we were standing in the open field near our home with all our friends and family looking on.

Haymitch came over to us and placed a hand over our joined ones, and we stood in a little huddle – my own little family – and our eyes met.

"May the odds be ever in your favor," Haymitch said which set me off. Peeta's grin made me laugh a little more.

I couldn't help chuckling at Effie's words coming out of Haymitch's mouth. After our moment of merriment, he shook Peeta's hand and kissed my forehead.

We walked into our home – the one given to me because he knew my memories of Prim were there – to toast our bit of bread to share. We sat by the fire built by my mother and toasted the bread and took turns feeding each other a bite. He kissed me gently afterward – my new husband – and smiled.

Food was brought out and there were some familiar faces. "Hey, brainless," a voice said from behind me when there was a lull in the greetings.

A grin lit up my face as I turned and took in Johanna Mason. Her brown hair was still cut short, but was at least partially tidy. She looked healthier and somehow smoother. Time really did seem to help her.

She was smiling, but trying not to. "Congratulations on the marriage," she added. Neither of us was very demonstrative, so we had an awkward hand-shake slash one-armed hug.

"It's good to see you again," I said honestly. "I'm surprised you came. I suppose I'm glad, though." I gave her a smirk.

She chuckled. "Sure you are. I'm not the only one either. Look," she said and pointed out Annie Odair.

Annie turned and saw me, a beautiful baby boy in her arms, and hurried over to hug me. She handed me her young son without question, and my heart squeezed at how much he looked like Finnick. He was already the spitting image of his father. I missed Finnick's easy laugh, his blue eyes, his strength, and the way he understood me.

I wasn't really one to hold children comfortably, but I couldn't help hugging Finnick's child. It eased the hurt to hold his baby and see that he would be carried on in his son.

Annie whispered, "He would have loved this. Congratulations, Katniss."

I smiled, trying not to cry, and thanked her. She moved on to Peeta and we ate, talked to everyone, and danced the evening away. It was a bittersweet night in some ways, but I was happy. When everyone left, Peeta and I went upstairs to our bedroom.

After we undressed and slid into bed, Peeta hovered over me. "I love you, Mrs. Mellark," he whispered, leaning down to kiss me and nuzzle my neck. I was sure there would be no nightmares tonight.

A slow smile began to creep over my face. "And I love you, Mr. Mellark," and pulled him down to me to start our first night as husband and wife.

* * *

Not long after the wedding, I had received a letter in the mail. When I opened it, I swallowed with some difficulty. The memories swamped me, and I felt a mix of nervousness and relief. It was from Gale.

_Catnip,_

_We both know things have been different, and I think we have both come to terms with that. So, I wanted to tell you that I'm happy for you. I'm glad you can find some happiness – and hopefully some peace – with your marriage to Peeta. I hope that one day we can talk again. I miss the way we used to be._

_Gale_

I pressed my lips together to keep them from quivering at his old nickname for me. I held that little scrap of paper close to my heart. It gave me hope, knowing he was okay and that he still cared. It had been a relief to stop hurting Gale. It gave me time for the ache to ease that it could have been his bomb that killed my sister. It also gave me time to grow together again with Peeta. I had told myself that I would not hold Gale responsible for anything. I knew – and had always known – that he would have done whatever it took to save my family.

When and if it came to seeing each other again, I would make sure Peeta was okay with it, and I would get to see Gale again.

A few days went by and the weather was terrible. It was a hot and muggy evening, and I was restless. I had gone hunting in the morning which soothed me, spent some time trading with the citizens of District 12, but the weather had ended up pushing me back home as the humidity became oppressive even after the sun had went down. I saw that Peeta had eaten already, so I did the same. I turned the television on, watched for a few moments, and flicked it off.

The book of portraits Peeta had painted, and the actual photographs we had of all the people we had cared for, lay open on the side table. My fingers automatically flipped through it, and I stared down at the pictures with the prick of grief that was ever-present. I closed it and decided to go see what Peeta was doing.

He was in the room that had become his studio, and I leaned against the doorjamb, watching him concentrate on his brush strokes. I stayed quiet so I wouldn't disturb him, and when he pulled his hand away, I said softly, "That's beautiful."

I saw a picture of the two of us, fingers curled together, and standing by our fireplace with the bit of bread we had toasted on our wedding day.

He turned, his mouth curving into a smile. He reached out an arm to me, and I leaned against his side. "You ready to go to bed?" I asked, feeling the now familiar hunger spread through me. I was eager for Peeta's way of distracting me from my thoughts and the nightmares that still came.

Peeta could sense how I felt, and his grin flashed in the darkening room. "I'd like to paint one more thing, but I need your help. It shouldn't take too long."

Curious now, I asked him, "What's that?"

"You," he said calmly.

I raised my eyebrows in surprise. "Me? You want to paint me?"

He nodded, shifting his paints closer to him and setting up a new easel. I shrugged, willing to play along. "Um... okay. Where do you want me?" I asked.

"How about on the couch?" He followed me over as I sat down. His hands urged me to stretch out on my side, my head propped up on my hand, the other draped along my hip.

"Now..." he murmured. He began calmly unbuttoning my jeans.

"Peeta!" I laughed. "What are you doing?"

"Nude portrait," he answered simply, and I could see the teasing gleam in his eye.

"Are you joking?" I already felt a little strange posing, but posing nude?

"No, Katniss. But if you're too scared to do so..."

I glared at him half-heartedly. He was harassing me, telling me I didn't have the nerve to do it. Well, I'd show him.

I pushed his hands away, unbuttoned and slid my pants and underwear down my legs. I kicked them off and at him. He laughed, watching me as he caught them. I pulled my t-shirt over my head.

"Let me," he whispered, his mouth close to my ear.

His fingers moved to my back, slowly but deftly unhooking my bra. His eyes were trained on me as my small breasts were bared before him. I stretched back out into position, smiling inwardly at his look. Then it was his turn to smile as he undid my braid and smoothed it so it lay over one breast, leaving the other exposed. He slid one hand between my thighs, gently bending the one on top back in a casual pose. I swallowed and did my best to act unaffected.

"Perfect," he murmured. "You'll be much cooler this way, too," he said with a light laugh.

It was a strange feeling being so exposed, but I liked watching Peeta while he watched me and the easel. He got that look of intense concentration he usually got when immersed in painting or drawing. It was relaxing laying in this pose, watching his hands move over the easel, feeling the fan blowing over my bare skin, and hearing absolutely nothing but the soft sounds of the paintbrush swishing over the easel.

Just as my body was beginning to cramp being in this position for so long, he sat back. "I got the outline; I just need to fill in a little color later. Do you want to see it?"

I sat up, eager to see, as he turned it to face me. It was beautiful. I never really thought of myself as beautiful, but under his hands - metaphorically and physically - I came alive and looked stunning.

I stood up, moving over toward him, examining the picture as I felt his eyes examine me. "I don't know… my one breast looks a little lopsided…" I teased.

I squirmed away from his grasp with a grin as he advanced on me. A soft chuckle escaped his lips, just before he caught hold of my hips. We ended up back on the sofa, his warm hands exploring my body as his lips explored my breasts, my neck, and up to my lips.

My body was on fire, and I embraced the heat as he entered me and drove me to the brink. Afterward, I realized it still felt so rare for me to have something so beautiful in my life, as I held on to him. It was him and what we shared. I pressed my lips to his, truly knowing just how lucky I was to have him.


	4. Moments of Change

_Making the decision to have a child - it's momentous. It is to decide forever to have your heart go walking around outside your body. __**Elizabeth Stone**_

* * *

It had taken so long for Peeta to convince me to have children. Years continued to go by, but it didn't dampen my fear. It wasn't that I didn't want to share that experience with him – I was beginning to find that I did – but the fear was crippling. Could I bring a child into this world knowing what the Districts went through, what the tributes in the Hunger Games dealt with? I had dealt with so much horror, death, loss, and pain. The thought of anything happen to a child of ours was terrifying.

"Katniss, we're in this together. You're right; we have seen too much death. We lost people we cared about, people who deserved all the goodness in the world, but didn't live long enough to get it. Instead of focusing on death, shouldn't we embrace life? Make a life?" Peeta had said as his final argument.

"I don't want to push you," he said softly, pressing his lips to my temple. "I just want you to think about it; really think about it."

I had thought long and hard about it, and I finally decided that Peeta was right. The fear was always going to be there, but I didn't want to deny Peeta something he really wanted. If I was honest, I wanted them as well; it was just a terrifying thought. With Peeta's help, I could do this.

The day I found out I was pregnant, my heart started banging against my chest and my breath was choppy. When I told Peeta, a sick feeling roiled in my stomach, but seeing his elation helped calm me.

As time passed and our baby grew in my womb, I woke from nightmares when she began to move inside me. Nightmares about evil president's or mutts kept coming after me, trying to take her from me. I would wake covered in sweat, my hand covering my stomach, as I fought to shake the vestiges of the nightmare away.

Peeta always woke when I did; his arms would circle me again, his hand resting on my stomach as well, holding me as close and as tight as he could. It usually helped me to fall back asleep.

One morning, I was antsy and needed something to do to distract me, so I dragged Peeta into the woods with me when he finished baking his loaves of bread. It was a warm day, with a soft breeze, and I knew just the thing to do. I took him to the lake I used to go to with my father.

"Where are we going?" he asked as he dutifully followed me. He was never far from my side, making sure I didn't stumble. It was annoying and yet somehow sweet.

"It's a surprise," I said with a slight smile.

After some more trekking through the woods, the lake came into view. His eyes widened. "It's not like I've never been in the woods, thought not like you have over the years, but I had no idea this was here."

I nodded. "I know. It was something that I shared with my father until it became discovered during the revolution. I wish I could have kept it secret, but I decided I really wanted to share this with you and make it special again."

He gave my hand a squeeze as we moved into the little clearing. I began tugging my shirt off and unbuttoning my pants. His eyebrows raised high.

"Um, you're going in?" he asked with some surprise.

I smirked. "Of course. So are you."

He laughed. "Well… okay. You won't let me drown, right?"

I snickered. "I'll do my best. You still remember the basic stroke, right?"

When he nodded, we dipped our toes into the water to test it, and then began to ease our way into it. It was chilly, but it felt good on my sun-warmed skin. Moving further into the water, I held my arms out and felt even more at peace. I kept an eye on Peeta as he followed me, though he stayed a little closer to shore in uncertainty.

He tried the stroke I had taught him, moving slowly through the water. I managed to coax him further in where the water reached his shoulders. He bit his lip, and I smiled encouragingly.

"You have the stroke down," I told him. "And you're strong and in shape. That will help."

He practiced a little more as I paddled a little more slowly. I had a little extra weight I was carrying around with me. When Peeta paddled his way back to me with more confidence, I smiled at the sight of his blonde hair glistening in the sun and the sparkle in his eyes. His happiness was infectious.

Just as he reached me, our baby gave a little kick inside me. It was always startling and nerve-wracking, but I began to feel a little glow of happiness. I was terrified beyond belief, but it helped to see the thrill of excitement in Peeta's eyes.

So I told him.

He came up behind me, wrapping his arms around me from behind. As always, my body relaxed when I felt the strength in his arms as he held me. His hands rested on my stomach and after a few moments, our baby obliged him with another kick.

I turned to face him, the delight on his face nearly palpable. "Thank you," he whispered against my lips as he kissed me softly over and over.

We floated in the lake together, hands touching and never straying far from each other. When we climbed out of the lake, we lay stretched out on our blanket, letting the breeze dry our skin. I stared down at the bulge of my stomach, thinking of the good things about this that we talked about, and felt my body relax as Peeta turned onto his side and rested his hand on it.

And as the sun peeked through the leafy trees, Peeta leaned over, brushing his lips over my swollen belly. A small smile curled my lips as we lay in what was as close to contentment as we could get.

* * *

It was a rainy night in early October when I woke from another nightmare. My body shook, the sweat beaded at my temples, and I turned to make sure Peeta was still by my side. His arms tightened as I breathed shakily; I couldn't help being afraid that he would disappear from my life.

Peeta was actually sleeping well, so I carefully slid out of bed. It was so close to the birth, and I was restless and scared more than ever. My mother would be on her way today, though, which helped to ease some of the fear. I paced down the hall and ended up in the kitchen, staring out at the tree line, wishing I could just take off into the woods like I used to. Glancing down at my overly-large belly, I knew I wouldn't be doing any sort of running, though.

Outside the leaves skittered over the ground as I perched on a small bench that had been placed there for my night-time restlessness. The moon cast a soft shadow over the ground, and I circled my feet over the soft grass, feeling the soft tickle against my soles. I pulled my father's coat tighter and placed a hand over my stomach. My mother had told me that the baby didn't move as much close to the birth time, so the lack of movement was one thing I didn't have to worry about.

I felt his presence before he even spoke.

"Katniss? Are you okay?"

I felt Peeta's warmth against my side as he sat down. I leaned my head comfortably on his shoulder. "Just restless," I replied. "You were sleeping pretty peacefully for once, and I didn't want to wake you."

He kissed the top of my head and rested his cheek on it. "Your mother will be here in a few hours. Why don't you try to get a little more rest?"

I agreed and he helped me back inside. He stretched out on the couch, leaving the window open slightly like he always did, and I relished the soft, cool breeze wafting over us as I leaned back against him. Once settled, I fell asleep easily.

I paced around the following morning, nervous and feeling like a balloon about to pop. Peeta was in the kitchen, baking the day's breads to take to the bakery. He was going to stay home with me today, though, and have Greasy Sae do the selling for him. He promised her granddaughter cheese buns, too. Watching him with Sae's granddaughter, how good he was with her and how she loved when he teaser her, continually showed me how good he would be with his own child.

Peeta came out of the kitchen, a streak of flour across his cheek. I smiled slightly as he came over to kiss me, his hand automatically going to my stomach. I brushed the flour off his cheek.

"Will you be okay for fifteen minutes? Do you want me to ask Sae to come pick it up, or do you want to go with me?"

I waved away his suggestion. "I can handle fifteen minutes. Go ahead."

Not long after he left, I felt a twinge in my belly and wished I took him up on his offer. I tried to relax, breathing deep, and I sat down carefully. I counted the minutes until he came back.

"Are you all right?" he asked as he came into the kitchen, smoothing his hand down my braid.

"I felt a twinge," I said, trying to hide the terror I was feeling. He knew me too well, though.

The concern and fear on his own face was enough to show me even though he wanted this, he wasn't immune to the fears of having a child as well.

"Your mother is on her way, Katniss. Was it actually a contraction?"

I bit my lip, my hand on my stomach. "I… I think so. I guess it's not something to be really concerned with yet. I just want her to get her soon."

He helped me up and into the living room. As I was getting settled onto the couch, our door opened and Haymitch just strolled in.

"How's our little sprog doing?" he asked blearily. He didn't seem quite as drunk as usual which was always a plus.

I gave him an irritated look as he perched on the arm of the sofa. "She's fine. She'll be here soon enough."

Peeta went into the kitchen to get Haymitch his daily loaf of bread. "You're feeling okay?" he asked me a little more seriously.

I considered him for a moment. "Yes, I'm okay. My mother should be here soon. I'm hoping it happens tonight; I'm not feeling very comfortable," I said my voice slightly cranky with fatigue and fear.

My mother arrived later in the afternoon while the three of us sprawled comfortably – well, Haymitch sprawled uncomfortably and snored really loud – on the couch and floor. Peeta was reading to me in an attempt to help me relax.

I relaxed fractionally when my mother came in, greeting us, and getting all her supplies inside. Sae came over to cook us dinner, and we sat down to eat with her and caught up on what she was doing in District 4. While they cleaned up, I headed toward the living room, and ended up doubled over with a contraction.

"Katniss!" I faintly heard Peeta call out to me through the roaring in my head.

My hand nearly knocked over a picture frame as I grasped the edge of a small side table in an effort to stay upright. Warm hands took hold of me, and I heard my mother's calm voice instructing Peeta to get my upstairs and into bed.

Peeta had lifted me and carried me upstairs. He whispered, "Soon we'll meet our daughter." The idea of it, even while terrifying, made me smile.

I let myself be helped into bed and tried to relax. My mother came in to check on me, though she mostly left me and Peeta alone until my contractions were within the time frame of getting ready to give birth. Peeta didn't say much as he tried to help me get as comfortable as possible. His hands worked on easing the ache in my back in the moments before my mother came in.

I finally asked him what was on my mind. "Are you scared, Peeta?"

His eyes met mine. "Terrified," he said quietly.

"Why did you want children so badly?" I asked curiously after I breathed my way through another contraction.

He smiled a little as he pondered that.

"I like kids, but I really liked the idea of creating someone, bring someone pure and innocent into the world after everything we had seen. I also liked the idea of having that little someone with you; having a little Katniss running around. I love you, and it makes me happy knowing this will ultimately bring you joy."

I gathered myself before answering. "It will," I said quietly. "It's hard, we both know that. I continue to be terrified, but I had come to realize before making this decision that you were right. I don't want to live my life in fear, though I know it'll always be there, but having something good brought into the world helps."

He laced his fingers with mine as another contraction came. "I think it's time," I whispered.

My mother came in, preparing me for the birth, and I began to push.

Peeta never once told me it was going to be okay, and I was grateful for that. We both knew things would never be entirely okay, and he knew he couldn't make promises that he wouldn't be able to keep. The only promise he made me was one he was capable of keeping; as I pushed through the pain to give birth to our daughter, he leaned close, lips skimming my ear.

"I promise to always love you and our daughter, and I promise to try and keep you safe as long as I live. Just like I know you would try to do the same for me."

I gazed at him through the haze of pain and squeezed his hand.

"You're the strongest person I know," he said, kissing my temple.

With those words, I gave one last painful push, teeth gritted, and our daughter was born.

My mother was smiling when she turned back around from taking care of our crying baby. She handed her to Peeta, and I felt a massive bolt of fear shoot through me upon the realization that this tiny human was ours, and it was up to us to keep her safe.

After nearly starving to death, struggling to keep myself and my family alive, being forced to kill in the arena, and losing so many people I cared about, I felt the tears begin. Marrying Peeta had been an extremely good thing in my life and now I had something else amazing; two dandelions in the sun after a lifetime of struggle.

When Peeta placed her in my arms, I knew he had been right. The indescribable joy filled me as I held our daughter; it was the only thing that eased my fears. The look on Peeta's face spoke a thousand words without him even having to say anything.

_Love. Happiness. Fear. Awe. Excitement_.

He covered the spectrum of words with one look.

Haymitch appeared then, moving toward us, his eyes on her. He didn't say anything, he just stood by us and it was enough. He laid a shaking hand on the soft, dark fuzz of hair on her head and seemed at a loss for words.

"You two deserve this. Remember that, sweetheart," he finally said, and I knew he was happy for us.

After a few minutes, he turned to leave. "Haymitch?" I said quietly.

When he turned, I could see his eyes looked damp. "And you remember that you're part of this family whether you like it or not."

He paused and collected himself again, and then he smirked. "Sure sweetheart. Grandpa Haymitch, huh? I'm sure you would want me as a baby-sitter."

"Hell no," Peeta replied with a note of affection in his voice.

The mood lightened as he and my mother left the room. Peeta stretched out next to me on the bed, and I rested my head on his shoulder. He was stroking our baby's cheeks, her soft fuzzy hair, and stroking a finger down her plump little arm. Her eyes blinked open sleepily at the touch, and I could see they were blue. She was beautiful. Her lips pursed, and she closed her eyes again, head resting against my chest. I knew I would never tire of holding her.

"What should we name her?" he asked.

I thought about it. "Hmm… what about Ella?"

He nodded slowly. "Yeah, I kind of like that. Ella Primrose Mellark."

I pressed my lips together to hold back the tears. My sister would have been ecstatic. My hand hooked around the back of Peeta's neck and pulled him down for a kiss. His lips teased mine open, and I sighed against his mouth.

"Thank you. It's perfect."

He smiled, and as my little family filled the bed, I could feel another strong ray of hope break through the dark.

* * *

**AN: Just to let you know, I'm extending this to five chapters now instead of four, so there's one more to go after this. :o) Thanks for reading and reviewing… it's much appreciated! And again, a quick thanks to those I haven't been able to respond to personally. Oh… and just wanted to let you know, if you are on Twitter, you can follow nightlockrecs if you're so inclined. They recommend different Hunger Games fics which is nice if you like that idea.**


	5. Moments of Acceptance

_Courage is not the absence of fear__, but simply moving on with dignity despite that fear._

_-Pat Riley_

* * *

Ella had shown an aptitude for moving through the forest quietly. Even for an almost four year old. She watched me with fascination as I slipped through the underbrush stalking prey; she knew to stay quiet, though it didn't always last too long. So, I made sure not to wait too long before I found the spot to aim and shoot my bow. I didn't actually kill any of the animals in front of her, though she knew that was the point. I wasn't ready for her to see me first-hand killing something even out of necessity.

I knew her going to school was getting closer and she would learn of what the Hunger Games were, and I worried about telling her of my and Peeta's involvement in it. It was one thing to know about it and know that your mother and father had something to do with the rebellion, but it was quite another to know the extent of their neuroses.

She had begun asking me why I would sometimes wake up screaming from nightmares. I didn't want my child to know the horrors of what I had seen and done. As I pondered that, Ella tugged on my sleeve. "Mommy, look," she whispered. A buck stood a few feet away from us, grazing.

It would have made for some great venison stew, but I couldn't kill something in front of her. She was too young. Instead we watched it silently for a couple minutes before a sound spooked it and it bounded away.

"Come on, Ella, let's go home," I said taking her hand. We had been out in the woods long enough and I knew she was getting tired.

She walked alongside me, poking at all kinds of things, as I pointed out specific berries that were edible. We munched a few on the way back and as soon as we cleared the woods, Peeta was walking up to the house with our two year old son Ian.

"Daddy!" Ella cried, letting go of my hand to run full-tilt toward him.

Peeta swung her up and she threw her arms around his neck. He gave her a big noisy kiss making her giggle and then gave my hand a light tug so he could kiss me. I smiled and then felt a little hand pulling on mine.

"Mama," Ian said.

I scooped Ian up, holding him close, and he laid his head on my shoulder. I smoothed a hand over his back, over his blonde hair, and whispered, "I love you."

"Wuv you," he replied.

"Come on, I think its nap time," Peeta announced. For once they didn't complain about it, so we got them settled into their beds.

After a couple stories, more hugs and kisses, they both drifted off to sleep. We stood there, always taking every chance we could to appreciate our children. Every night I went into their room to check on them, to sit by their bed, and felt the old fears rise up in me.

Every time I had a nightmare, I would sit in their room. Sometimes the fear drove Peeta to join me, though he would sometimes coax me back to bed, saying we couldn't sit in their room every night for the rest of their lives.

In the evenings, Peeta often wrestled with Ella and Ian on the floor. It always amused me watching him, remembering he was a wrestling champ in school when we were kids. Our children loved when he'd roll them around, lifting them high, and they would squeal with delight.

Peeta made me join in a couple times, and my competitive nature would take over, but it usually resulted in him kissing me because I was a sore loser. Ella would screech that we were gross. It was quite an ordeal.

Peeta's occasional flash backs to the high jacking weren't that frequent, but Ella was even more observant than I realized. She had seen me take hold of Peeta during one of those episodes, and if she was around when it happened, she would go over to him and wrap her arms around his leg and hug him. I knew it upset her because she could tell he wasn't feeling right, but there was nothing that could be done.

The one night I woke screaming from a nightmare of being chased by something unseen in the arena. Ella had crept into our bedroom as Peeta tried to calm me.

"Mommy," she had whispered and climbed up onto the bed and right into my lap.

It was her way of comforting, and I cried to Peeta afterward that she shouldn't have to feel she has to comfort her own mother.

"Katniss," he said kissing me lightly. "Think of it like this... was she upset? No. Did she start crying, too? No. Ella is stronger than you think, and while I agree it's difficult knowing they're experiencing this through us, at least we know she got her strength from you."

I sniffled into his shoulder and realized he had a point. I hated the thought of my daughter being fearful of everything, so while I was upset that this happened, I was grateful my daughter was strong. She also resembled Prim in some ways, and though it still ached inside me, I was glad to see a bit of my sister in my daughter. Ella had my dark hair, Peeta's blue eyes, but the set of her mouth reminded me of Prim as did her need to comfort. She was also very loving and patient for a four-year old.

She was flipping through the book of photos one morning that she found and saw the picture Peeta had drawn of Prim with Lady. She beamed and pointed. "Mama, look! She's pretty."

I nodded. "She is. Her name was Primrose."

"That's my middle name," she said looking confused.

"We gave you that name because Prim was very important to us."

She had asked me to tell her about Prim. Drudging up the memories of my sister was painful, but enjoyable. I told Ella how Prim used to never be able to tuck her shirt in right, making her look like a duck. I told her how brave Prim was, and how good she was at making people feel better.

"Just like you," I said quietly.

* * *

It took me awhile to adjust to talking about Prim. Ella liked to hear all kinds of stories about her now that she knew she was named after her. The first couple times I talked about her, my dreams were vivid and Prim was in them, disappearing from my view every time I got near her. I always woke, tears burning behind my eyelids, while Peeta tried to comfort me.

Peeta struggled with the memories as well; talking about something that he connected with that time gave him nightmares as well. He woke one night, shaky and frantic that he thought he had killed me.

"I remember trying," he gasped softly, his arms holding me securely. "I tried to kill you; that time I killed Mitchell."

I comforted him that night.

His eyes were damp as his fingers traced my features, and I pulled him against me. "I need to feel you. I need to make love to you. I just need you."

I opened everything to him that night, feeling his lips and his hands caress my body, his hips pressed against mine. "Peeta, it was a long time ago," I soothed. "It was out of your control. You overcame it, though, and now we have each other. We love each other," I continued to whisper against his mouth.

We were connected - both physically and emotionally – as he moved against me. When I gripped him tightly, overcome with the feeling, he lowered his forehead to mine. "Thank you," he whispered.

I just held him against me, feeling our hearts beat together.

After awhile, it became a little easier. Ella didn't understand my hesitation, but I told her about everyone in that book; the little details. Ian liked to listen to me talk about them, too, but he was too young to question it.

When Gale had sent me his first letter, we talked here and there on the telephone. It was awkward, stilted conversation at first, but over time it eased and now he was planning a visit. Peeta was fine with it, and I knew Gale was married with a child. It made it easier knowing he was happy.

Once Gale arrived, and our eyes met, I realized time really had healed old wounds. I flew into his arms without a thought, and he caught me. He hadn't changed much; he just seemed more poised and calmer. He was still as handsome as ever.

"Catnip, it's good to see you," he said simply, his familiar smile in place.

"It's really good to see you, too," I said and truly meant it.

His wife – Rosanna – was charming and sociable. She was a good balance for him. Their little boy, Gale Jr., was a little spitfire. He and Ella became fast friends. We all sat in the grass, enjoying the late summer sun with just a touch of a cool breeze, and watched them play. Ian tried to keep up with them, and Gale Jr. was patient with him; he gave him a piggy-back ride when his chubby toddler legs just couldn't do it.

We filled each other in on what was new in our lives. It was as easy being with Gale again as before. I had come to terms with what had happened, and I knew I never blamed him. It had been hard to move on from, I had thought a lot about how it could have been one of his bombs, but I knew he had loved my family almost as much as his own.

We weren't meant to be together, but we weren't meant to be out of each other's lives completely. When they left, he shook Peeta's hand and hugged me tightly. "I'm so glad I got to see you," he said, touching my cheek.

A genuine smile curled my lips. "Me too," I said and slid my hand into Peeta's as we watched them leave.

* * *

Ella was starting school, and I knew that she would begin to learn about the games. It was taught in schools as part of our history, though I knew kids were sometimes told about it by their parents early on. I wasn't sure if I was ready for the questions she would inevitably have, but Peeta assured me we would just take it a day at a time. The day I had to tell her of mine and Peeta's role in the rebellion was something I dreaded and thought of often.

How do you tell your child that you have killed other people?

Haymitch was good with distracting Ella from her questions when he came over. He still drank his white liquor, but even without us telling him, he curbed his drinking when he came over to visit the kids. His hair was graying a little, the lines in his face had deepened, and he often looked worn, but he always had a smile and a spin for both Ella and Ian.

"Haymish!" Ella squealed, still unable to pronounce his name, when he came over one afternoon. Peeta and I were sitting on the porch - painting for him and skinning a turkey for me - as Ella and Ian chased each other around the yard.

They both ran toward Haymitch. He obliged them with a spin and then tucked one each under an arm as he walked up to the porch. The sound of our children's giggles never failed to make us smile even during a bad day. Once he set them down and they were off running again, he collapsed into the extra chair, breathing a little labored.

"Damn, I'm out of shape," he mumbled to himself. But he shrugged and leaned back.

I raised an eyebrow at him. "It would do you good to get _in_ shape, you know."

He smirked. "Maybe I like getting old and fat, sweetheart."

"More like you don't want to give up the booze," I muttered.

He shrugged, and we sat in companionable silence as the memories came unbidden when Ella and Ian decided to run through the meadow together, Ella keeping hold of her little brother's hand. I glanced down at the turkey, plucking more feathers, trying not to think of it as a graveyard. I finished and cut up the meat to take it in and cook.

Haymitch stayed to eat with us - at Peeta's invitation - and it was a meal filled with chatter from Ella about her first day at school. Sure enough, she had heard about the hunger games.

Peeta was cutting up Ian's food when she finally said, "Daddy, Mommy, what's the hunger games?"

I froze with my forked poised in mid-air and my chest ached. Peeta's eyes met mine, and my other hand reached for his hand under the table. Haymitch glanced at both of us, eyebrows raised, but he stayed quiet.

"Jessie said that you and daddy were in it. Our teacher told her to be quiet after she said it."

"We were," I said quietly. "Panem used to be very different, Ella. It was something that children participated in."

She cocked her head. "Will I be in it?"

My stomach rolled, and I held my hand to it at even the suggestion. Peeta rubbed a hand over my back. "No, honey, you won't. The games are gone for good. There wasn't anything good about the game, so it doesn't happen anymore."

She looked a little confused. "It was bad? But you won?"

"We did," I managed to say. But at what cost? "You'll learn about it in school eventually and when you're a little older, we'll tell you a little more about it. It was a long time ago; it's a very good thing that there aren't any more of those games. There are better games to play."

And with that it was over. I gave a small sigh. Haymitch gave us both an awkward pat on the back in support, thanked us for dinner, and went home after we had cleaned up. We got Ella and Ian into bed after their baths with only a little complaining.

We smoothed their hair back, kissed them, and bid them sweet dreams. I hoped their dreams were sweet. There were enough nightmares in this house.

Once they were asleep, I stood in the hall with Peeta. I rested my forehead against his chest as he rubbed my back. "That could have been worse," he said.

I nodded, relieved that it was over and more questions weren't asked.

"It's always going to be difficult, we're always going to remember, and one day we're going to have to relive it when we try to explain it to our children," he added.

"As long as I have you, I'll be okay," I said.

He smiled, tilting my chin up. His lips were warm and held the promise of a good night. "I like hearing you say that," he admitted, untangling my braid.

I had gotten much better at expressing to him how much he meant to me, and he deserved to hear it often. I remembered being so hesitant about marrying him during the games, but I had discovered even then that I could never do any better than Peeta. Grateful that he was my husband, and that he made two beautiful children with me, I wrapped my arms around his neck. His lips became more eager under mine as our tongues brushed.

"Come on, let's go to bed," he murmured against my lips, hooking his fingers in my belt loops and giving me a tug.

I laughed. "Go on, I'll be there in a minute."

He disappeared into the bedroom, and I hesitantly pushed open the door of Prim's room. I stood, breathing in the soft lavender scent of the sachet's I kept in there. The soft breeze rustled the curtains - now cool as summer was coming to a close - and stared at the dresser drawer. I sat down on the edge of Prim's bed, opened the drawer, and brushed my hand over the items in there.

Prim's ribbons, dried flowers she had pressed into one of her favorite books; one of the few luxuries that had been hers. There was one of her shirts, the one that always gave her a duck tail, and there was the present she had given me at Christmas one year. I picked up the fabric-woven bracelet she had braided with different colored shirts of hers. She had cut little strips off so she could make it for me. I used to wear it, but always kept it safe when I didn't. I hadn't been able to look at it for so long after she was gone.

Now I pulled it out and tied it to my wrist. "I love you," I murmured. A few tears escaped and slid down my cheeks.

Buttercup wandered into the room, sitting just inside the door, staring at me with his yellow eyes. I was surprised he had lasted this long. He must've been younger than I thought when Prim took him in. He was probably near twenty years old now; though I noticed he didn't move around so well anymore.

"You really are a tough, old pain in the ass, aren't you?" I told him, and he hissed for old time's sake. I smiled, and he came forward for a few strokes of his back. We had long-ago developed a sort-of fondness for each other. He curled up on Prim's bed.

I started to close the drawer, but a glint of gold caught my eye. I reached into the drawer, pulling out the Mockingjay pin that Madge had given me. The badge of the rebellion. I traced a finger along the contours of it, remembering the girl who had been a friend of mine.

All the evilness, the control of the Capitol, and the brutality was a part of my life, but I had more good days than bad days. Peeta and I could easily put food on the table for our children, I was friends with Gale again, my children were healthy, my mother and I spoke a little more, and I had the love of my kids and my husband. My life was richer - and though I would have gladly taken my old house back and having to always hunt to eat to have Prim back - I was happy.

"Katniss?" I heard Peeta's voice call to me. He had that certain tone in his voice that elicited a smile; he was waiting for me.

I glanced once more at the pin - a representation of an old life - and went to my husband's arms to continue my new one.

_My name is Katniss Mellark. I am 33 years old. I was a victor in the Hunger Games. I am married to Peeta Mellark, also a victor, and I have two children by him. I was the Mockingjay - a symbol of hope for the citizens of Panem. I lost my sister in a fire bombing. I was beaten, starved, dehydrated, and forced to kill other children. _

_I have chosen life, to live for my sister and the friends' who sacrificed everything for the cause and for me. I am free._

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**AN: And that's it, folks. :o) I hope you've enjoyed this! I had fun writing it. I know I plan on writing more HG fic, so if you're so inclined, keep an eye out. I love Peeta and Katniss (and would like to do more with them), but I also love Gale and many other characters. I might do some others as well! Thank you for being supportive and leaving reviews (and that includes all the one's I can't respond to personally!)… it's much appreciated.**


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